


Dune: Paul’s Women, Chapter 6 (Book II)

by Wodric



Series: Dune: Paul’s Women [20]
Category: Dune (1984), Dune - All Media Types, Dune Series - Frank Herbert, Frank Herbert's Dune (2000)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 12:11:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14284665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wodric/pseuds/Wodric
Summary: Chapter's summary:Irulan Corrino goes to Arrakis. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen receives her accompanied by his slave, Yueh’s widow, Wanna Marcus;Helena Richese visits again her son and brings news.Gurney’s Halleck allies with the smugglers after the Atreides’ defeat (no changes were made from the original work).See chapter 5 (Book II): https://archiveofourown.org/works/14274069See chapter 7 (Book II): https://archiveofourown.org/works/14289144





	Dune: Paul’s Women, Chapter 6 (Book II)

Paul’s Atreides Women

Book Two: MUAD’DIB

Chapter 6

 

We came from Caladan–a paradise world for our form of fife. There existed no need on Caladan to build a physical paradise or a paradise of the mind–we could see the actuality all around us. And the price we paid was the price men have always paid for achieving a paradise in this life – we went soft, we lost our edge.

\- from "Muad’Dib: Conversations" by the Princess Irulan

 

Irulan recalled the last time she was in that planet. A quick voyage just to attend a formal reception organized by the Atreides. She hold pleasant memories of that night. She liked Paul and enjoyed the short time they spend together.

This time she didn’t even knew for certain why she was there. Irulan was just following orders from her father and emperor. She would have to find her mother and the reasons behind her voyage to the desert planet. There were plans within plans.

She moved to the spaceship exit ramp followed by her twelve Sardaukar guards.

Before her, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the baron’s younger nephew was waiting flanked by the same number of Harkonnen guards. Behind the na-baron there was an interesting woman that also caught her attention. Her face reminded someone to Irulan. Someone that she had seen in her infancy in Wallach IX.

The woman had the posture of a Bene Gesserit, but her eyes were sad, they lacked the spark of life and there was a deep despair in them. And yet she had a quite attractive look, her body was hidden by a long robe but she an oval face, full red lips, protruding cheekbones and big brown expressive eye. Irulan felt that he was showing her off. Showing that he was important enough to control a Bene Gesserit concubine.

The princess focused her attention in the baron’s nephew. His sullen-faced youth stirred. He was young and attractive. Maybe the voyage wouldn’t be a complete loss of time.

His almost black hair was dressed in close ringlets above his sullen eyes in a baby like face with full and pouting lips. He wore comfortable trousers and a tight dark tunic that hide only partially his well defined muscles. Light slippers covered his feet. He surely needed some dress code advices.

Feyd-Rautha dipped his head with the required courtesy.

“Princess Irulan, I am Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and I am here to escort you to the palace.”

Then he stared at her to a point that made her uncomfortable. From that moment on, she knew that he desired her. Irulan balanced between being upset or flattered.

She straightened up and filled his chest with air to enhance his young full breasts. She knew that her dress without straps would help with the effect.

He offered his hand as she went out of the exit ramp but she dismissed it and extensively supported herself in her two maidens.

“I would though that the princess would want to visit Carthag. My uncle rules the planet from that city, and not from here.”

“We will go to Carthag if we will have time.” Irulan hided her discontent. She had no intentions to visit that city or the Baron. Then she teased him “Maybe we don’t need to go that far… For now lead us to the palace.”

The small group was escorted to a convoy of vehicles that would lead them through the streets of Arraken until the palace. On the vehicle Feyd-Rautha maintained in silence. Irulan look to the exterior. There were military checkpoints from district to district all over the city. The guards stood way to let the convoy pass, but many civilians were aligned in rows to be searched.

Feyd-Rautha only spoke again before the palace entrance.

“I was informed that this is not your first visit to Arrakis.” His words were casual, but there was something behind them. The inflection? Or just the sad eyes of the woman behind him…

“Indeed. The city seems different.” Something in his attitude had bored her… or maybe it was just that she felt Arraken much more depressing… or maybe she didn’t wanted this voyage.

The vehicles stopped, the guards assumed positions before the princess could leave the vehicle.

A servant formally dressed waited for them at the entrance. He bowed before the princess.

“Your quarters are ready to receive you, my Lady.”

Irulan nodded.

“I hope you will find your accommodations adequate. It was the best we could do in such short notice”, said Feyd-Rautha.

Irulan smiled. She know her smile was provocative and elegant. She wanted to annoy that na-baron.

“I only brought two maidens… I will need one more servant! I was hopping that you could provide one. That one seems adequate” she pointed her fingers to the woman with the Bene Gessserit look that was behind the baron’s nephew.

Feyd-Rautha tried to avoid a snoot. By his face she could see that he was not pleased. She had just ruined his plans for the night. Her smile went wider.

“Certainly, my Lady.” With a gesture from Feyd-Rautha the woman moved to the princess retinue.

With a gesture she dismissed him and followed her Sardaukar guards to her room, happy with her small victory.

In the quarters the Bashar who commanded her escort grumbled.

“My lady, these were the quarters of the duke’s son.”

“How do you know?”

“I was here. We need to search everything for traps. Before that you will not safe.”

The princess had enough experience to ignore the Bashar’s advice.

“Do it quickly.” She said while looking to the strange woman that was between her two maidens. “What is your name?”

“I am Wanna Marcus.”

“Wanna Marcus! You are a Bene Gesserit?”

“Yes. I was married with Wellington Yueh.”

“The Suk doctor… so that is how they broke his conditioning…” Irulan look intensely to her, “You know that my maidens will have to search you.”

“I am the wife of a traitor. I am not a traitor.”

“Did you love him?”

“He gave his life for me. He sacrificed his condition for me…” For a moment her eyes gained life again but Irulan’s attention was diverted by the Bashar.

“Your quarters are secure, my Lady.”

“Thank you, Bashar, your men may leave now.” Irulan waited until the Sardaukars abandoned her private quarters. The Bashar was the last one and closed the door behind him. She turned to her maidens: “Undress her and search her body and clothes, I don’t want any surprises.”

“Can I undress myself?”

Irulan nodded her acceptance.

Wanna Marcus passed her robe to one of the maidens and slowly under the eyes of the other women she begun to disrobe. Each piece was closely searched by Irulan’s maidens. Finally when she was all naked the two maidens begun to search her body for needles using rubber gloves.

The princess was impressed with the scars on Wanna’s back.

“You were wiped!”

One maiden made Wanna bend forward.

“Open you mouth and chough” she said while holding her face between her hands and looking inside her mouth. Then, the other one inserted a finger in her vagina. Then, with the other glove she inserted another one in her anus. Wanna complained with a pained squeak. The maiden removed the finger and it was tainted with blood.

“She has wounds in her anus,” informed a maiden continuing to search methodically Wanna’s skin, “but she is clear. There are no needles in her.”

“Who violated you?” asked Irulan.

Whanna still bend raised only her brown eyes.

“Who didn’t?”

 

***

 

Leto Atreides was once a duke, now he was nobody.

He stood still, erect as a statue, or like a military sentinel, with his arms crossed in the chest, looking outside to the green landscape as he could look to the infinite universe. He was trying to look the future without prescience. He was felling much better, after getting rid of all those drugs the Bene Gesserit had put in his food.

His military uniform was simple, as the one of a low rank soldier, but it was clean and it was his size. Only his bear and his disheveled hair were not compatible with his image as a soldier.

There was a slight knock on the door a pause and another knock.

“Come in.” he said loud and clear. He knew who it was.

She entered the room, her steps seems unsecure. He didn’t turn to her.

“So?” he asked.

“The poison made you sterile. At least temporary.”

He showed no apparent reaction.

“Are you felling better?” he heard her steps coming closer.

She embraced him from behind. And kissed the base of his neck while her arms were around his waist. Her breasts were not big, but he sensed them pressed against his back. It felt good. She felt him relax against her and he laid with his back against her chest as she ran one hand through his hair. He took her other hand in his, caressing it slightly with his fingers before twining his fingers in hers. She didn’t say anything more, she was just there and that’s what he needed.

The time passed. They felt each others beating hearts.

“Why did you leave Caladan?”

“That was sixteen years ago… you were the new duke, you had a concubine, a Bene Gesserit, one excellent mentat, you were quite capable to rule, you didn’t need me there.”

“Maybe I needed… I lead my house to a complete disaster! Do you have news?

“There is a rumor that Thufir Hawat was captured.”

She stood on her tiptoe and kissed him in his hear while supporting herself with her arms around his waist.

He took one of her hands in his and went down to place it in his trousers, above his penis. His member pulsed with vitality under her hand and he begun to open his fly. She quickly removed her hand and moved away from him.

“No.”

He just showed a sad smile and turned her face to her. She was wearing other cloths. A short skirt showing a bit more of her long bare legs. And a cotton sweater without any visible cleavage, but tight, that couldn’t hide the femininity of her well formed breasts. He never had seen the Bene Gesserit in that planet with their robes.

“While I was drugged I was making love with Gaius several times a day. I lost the account how many times I climaxed inside her and how many positions we used…”

His mother turned his back to him. “You don’t need to be graphic… and she was also giving you spice in the food to allow you to increase your activity.”

“I suspected that… I am just telling you that it is difficult to pass from that to a total abstinence… especially after what happened yesterday.”

“You are better, you can deal with that by yourself.”

“Can we leave the room and take a walk in the garden?” he asked. He couldn’t take the bedroom anymore.

They moved outside to the balcony and took a path to the garden walking in silence.

“I need to get back to Arrakis!”

“We need to get you out of here before Gaius arrives. Arrakis will be the worst place to go!”

While they walked around an explosion of exotic trees and wild colored flowers he said:

“I need to find Alia!”

“Alia?” Helena stopped, “My granddaughter!”

In the path there was a stone bench. Leto was not physically tired. But his state of mind made him sit down.

“Yes.”

“So Jessica had a daughter. She just hid her from the sisterhood.” Helena laugh “Clever girl.”

“How can I escape from this planet? Will you help me?” he looked up to her.

“Of course I will help you. I just need a plan and an escape destiny.”

“The second one is easy. The destiny is Arrakis. About the first I can’t help you, mother.”

“So Arrakis it is! I will send you a sister to shave you and cut your hair. She will shave you all, your head will be hairless like a baby butt.” She approached her son and caressed his hair one more time. “I will have a plan by tomorrow.” Helena kissed his check to assure him that she would support him.

She approached the bench.

“And Leto… don’t look to me like that…” her right hand made a small caress in his check.

The former duke of Caladan didn’t answer. He just stood up in silence and walked over to the balcony, returning to his golden cage.

Helena hesitated. After a while she followed him to his bedroom.

To her surprise the bedroom was empty. His military clothes were on the bed. The distinct sound of water running came from the bathroom. She opened the door.

Clouds of steam begun to spread from the shower box. Leto was completely naked in front of the washbasin mirror looking to his own reflex. He was leaning slightly forward with both hands resting in the lavatory. His penis was hard and pointed up defying the laws of gravity.

“Leto…”

She approached him from behind and bended her body forward sticking her body to his. Her arms closed around his waist and she let her right hand move down. He trembled in her arms with anticipation. She kissed his back one time than another one.

“Leto, my son…”

When her fist closed around his manhood he trembled again. Helena was surprised how an experienced man like her son could tremble so much in her hands.

Before she begun to pump him, she let her fingertips roam up and down his tool. Then further down, when he spread his legs she caressed and cupped his testicles, feeling her weigh, enjoying their soft texture.

“You don’t have much hair there,” she laugh.

Helena enveloped his member again with her hand and begun to stroke him gently with her chin spiked in his back, while her left hand was in his chest caressing him, pinching his nipples.

His hips begun to move in a cadenza trying get into her hands rhythm. Then, her left hand begun to caress his face, her fingers feeling her beard, his mouth, his lips. He surprised her and made one thing that she didn’t expected, he suck her forefinger into his mouth and begun to lick it as he had once sucked her breasts.

She intensified her strokes and squeezed his hard penis until all of her son’s body begun to dance in front of her, with her body glued to him, as bonded as she could maintain them, with her breasts smashed against his back, with her mouth licking and kissing his spine while her weary hand pumped him, back and forward, feeling his member pulsing in heat in her palm, back and forward and one more lick in his spine.

For a moment he stopped his moves. He grunted loud. His member vibrated in her hand and she sensed his sperm coming in waves.

This time she didn’t had to collect it, she just allowed the spurs to get free, splashing all the lavatory and the bathroom.

Even if her hand was tired, she continued slowly with her strokes, more gently, squeezing him to the last drops, then without leaving his penis, she disengaged her embrace and made him turn around, facing her. His arms leaved the support of the lavatory and were wrapped around her shoulders and he begun to kiss her forehead and playing with her hair, falling into his mother’s warm embrace once again.

By then the bathroom was submersed in a heavy fog that came from the shower box his hands were all over her body. They entered inside her cotton sweater to cup her breasts and inside her skirt to push her asschecks up.

She stopped to pump his deflated member, she turned to the lavatory and begun to wash her hands.

“Your sweaty, it is time to get in that shower.”

“Come with me…” he tried to drag her, picking her by her waist.

“No,” and she leaved the bathroom.

 

***

 

"So you’re the great Gurney Halleck," the man said.

Halleck stood staring across the round cavern office at the smuggler seated behind a metal desk. The man wore Fremen robes and had the half-tint blue eyes that told of off-planet foods in his diet. The office duplicated a space frigate’s master control center–communications and viewscreens along a thirty- degree arc of wall, remote arming and firing banks adjoining, and the desk formed as a wall projection–part of the remaining curve.

"I am Staban Tuek, son of Esmar Tuek," the smuggler said.

"Then you’re the one I owe thanks for the help we’ve received," Halleck said.

"Ah-h-h, gratitude," the smuggler said. "Sit down."

A ship-type bucket seat emerged from the wall beside the screens and Halleck sank onto it with a sigh, feeling his weariness. He could see his own reflection now in a dark surface beside the smuggler and scowled at the lines of fatigue in his lumpy face. The inkvine scar along his jaw writhed with the scowl.

Halleck turned from his reflection, stared at Tuek. He saw the family resemblance in the smuggler now–the father ’s heavy, over-hanging eyebrows and rock planes of cheeks and nose.

"Your men tell me your father is dead, killed by the Harkonnens," Halleck said.

"By the Harkonnens or by a traitor among your people," Tuek said.

Anger overcame part of Halleck’s fatigue. He straightened, said: "Can you name the traitor?"

"We are not sure."

"Thufir Hawat suspected the Lady Jessica."

"Ah-h-h, the Bene Gesserit witch... perhaps. But Hawat is now a Harkonnen captive."

"I heard," Halleck took a deep breath. "It appears we’ve a deal more killing ahead of us."

"We will do nothing to attract attention to us," Tuek said.

Halleck stiffened. "But–"

"You and those of your men we’ve saved are welcome to sanctuary among us," Tuek said.

"You speak of gratitude. Very well; work off your debt to us. We can always use good men. We’ll destroy you out of hand, though, if you make the slightest open move against the Harkonnens."

 

"But they killed your father, man!"

"Perhaps. And if so, I’ll give you my father ’s answer to those who act without thinking: ’A stone is heavy and the sand is weighty; but a fool’s wrath is heavier than them both.’ "

"You mean to do nothing about it, then?" Halleck sneered.

"You did not hear me say that. I merely say I will protect our contract with the Guild. 

The Guild requires that we play a circumspect game. There are other ways of destroying a foe."

"Ah-h-h-h-h."

"Ah, indeed. If you’ve a mind to seek out the witch, have at it. But I warn you that you’re probably too late...and we doubt she’s the one you want, any way."

"Hawat made few mistakes."

"He allowed himself to fall into Harkonnen hands."

"You think he’s the traitor?"

Tuek shrugged. "This is academic. We think the witch is dead. At least the Harkonnens believe it."

"You seem to know a great deal about the Harkonnens."

"Hints and suggestions... rumors and hunches."

"We are seventy-four men," Halleck said. "If you seriously wish us to enlist with you, you must believe our Duke is dead."

"His body has been seen."

"And the boy, too–young Master Paul?" Halleck tried to swallow, found a lump in his throat.

"According to the last word we had, he was lost with his mother in a desert storm. Likely not even their bones will ever be found."

"So the witch is dead then... all dead."

Tuek nodded. "And Beast Rabban, so they say, will sit once more in the seat of power here on Dune."

"The Count Rabban of Lankiveil?"

"Yes."

It took Halleck a moment to put down the upsurge of rage that threatened to overcome him.

He spoke with panting breath: "I’ve a score of my own against Rabban. I owe him for the lives of my family... "He rubbed at the scar along his jaw. "... and for this... "

"One does not risk everything to settle a score prematurely," Tuek said. He frowned, watching the play of muscles along Halleck’s jaw, the sudden withdrawal in the man’s shed-lidded eyes.

"I know... I know." Halleck took a deep breath.

"You and your men can work out your passage off Arrakis by serving with us. There are many places to–"

"I release my men from any bond to me; they can choose for themselves. With Rabban here – I stay."

"In your mood, I’m not sure we want you to stay."

Halleck stared at the smuggler. "You doubt my word?"

"No-o-o..."

"You’ve saved me from the Harkonnens. I gave loyalty to the Duke Leto for no greater reason. I’ll stay on Arrakis – with you... or with the Fremen."

"Whether a thought is spoken or not it is a real thing and it has power," Tuek said. "You might find the line between life and death among the Fremen to be too sharp and quick."

Halleck closed his eyes briefly, feeling the weariness surge up in him. "Where is the Lord who led us through the land of deserts and of pits?" he murmured.

"Move slowly and the day of your revenge will come," Tuek said. "Speed is a device of Shaitan. Cool your sorrow – we’ve the diversions for it; three things there are that ease the heart – water, green grass, and the beauty of woman."

Halleck opened his eyes. "I would prefer the blood of Rabban Harkonnen flowing about my feet." He stared at Tuek. "You think that day will come?"

"I have little to do with how you’ll meet tomorrow, Gurney Halleck. I can only help you meet today."

"Then I’ll accept that help and stay until the day you tell me to revenge your father and all the others who –"

"Listen to me, fighting man," Tuek said. He leaned forward over his desk, his shoulders level with his ears, eyes intent. The smuggler’s face was suddenly like weathered stone. 

"My father’s water – I’ll buy that back myself, with my own blade."

Halleck stared back at Tuek. In that moment, the smuggler reminded him of Duke Leto: a leader of men, courageous, secure in his own position and his own course. He was like the Duke... before Arrakis.

"Do you wish my blade beside you?" Halleck asked.

Tuek sat back, relaxed, studying Halleck silently.

"Do you think of me as fighting man? " Halleck pressed.

"You’re the only one of the Duke’s lieutenants to escape," Tuek said. "Your enemy was  
overwhelming, yet you rolled with him... You defeated him the way we defeat Arrakis."

"Eh?"

"We live on sufferance down here, Gurney Halleck," Tuek said. "Arrakis is our enemy."

"One enemy at a time, is that it?"

"That’s it."

"Is that the way the Fremen make out?"

"Perhaps."

"You said I might find life with the Fremen too tough. They live in the desert, in the open, is that why?"

"Who knows where the Fremen live? For us, the Central Plateau is a no-man’s land. But I wish to talk more about –"

"I’m told that the Guild seldom routes spice lighters in over the desert," Halleck said.  
"But there are rumors that you can see bits of greenery here and there if you know where to look."

"Rumors!" Tuek sneered. "Do you wish to choose now between me and the Fremen? We have a measure of security, our own sietch carved out of the rock, our own hidden basins. We live the lives of civilized men. The Fremen are a few ragged bands that we use as spice-hunters."

"But they can kill Harkonnens."

"And do you wish to know the result? Even now they are being hunted down like animals – with lasguns, because they have no shields. They are being exterminated. Why? Because they killed Harkonnens."

"Was it Harkonnens they killed?" Halleck asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Haven’t you heard that there may’ve been Sardaukar with the Harkonnens?"

"More rumors."

"But a pogrom – that isn’t like the Harkonnens. A pogrom is wasteful."

"I believe what I see with my own eyes," Tuek said. "Make your choice, fighting man. Me or the Fremen. I will promise you sanctuary and a chance to draw the blood we both want. Be sure of that. The Fremen will offer you only the life of the hunted."

Halleck hesitated, sensing wisdom and sympathy in Tuek’s words, yet troubled for no reason he could explain.

"Trust your own abilities," Tuek said. "Whose decisions brought your force through the battle? Yours. Decide."

"It must be," Halleck said. "The Duke and his son are dead?"

"The Harkonnens believe it. Where such things are concerned, I incline to trust the Harkonnens." A grim smile touched Tuek’s mouth. "But it’s about the only trust I give them."

"Then it must be," Halleck repeated. He held out his right hand, palm up and thumb folded flat against it in the traditional gesture. "I give you my sword."

"Accepted."

"Do you wish me to persuade my men?"

"You’d let them make their own decision?"

"They’ve followed me this far, but most are Caladan-born. Arrakis isn’t what they thought it’d be. Here, they’ve lost everything except their lives. I’d prefer they decided for themselves now."

"Now is no time for you to falter," Tuek said. "They’ve followed you this far."

"You need them, is that it?"

"We can always use experienced fighting men... in these times more than ever."

"You’ve accepted my sword. Do you wish me to persuade them?"

"I think they’ll follow you, Gurney Halleck."

" ’Tis to be hoped."

"Indeed."

"I may make my own decision in this, then?"

"Your own decision."

Halleck pushed himself up from the bucket seat, feeling how much of his reserve strength even that small effort required. "For now, I’ll see to their quarters and well-being," he said.

"Consult my quartermaster," Tuek said. "Drisq is his name. Tell him it’s my wish that you receive every courtesy. I’ll join you myself presently. I’ve some off-shipments of spice to see to first."

"Fortune passes everywhere," Halleck said.

"Everywhere," Tuek said. "A time of upset is a rare opportunity for our business."

Halleck nodded, heard the faint sussuration and felt the air shift as a lockport swung open beside him.

He turned, ducked through it and out of the office.

He found himself in the assembly hall through which he and his men had been led by Tuek’s aides. It was a long, fairly narrow area chewed out of the native rock, its smooth surface betraying the use of cutteray burners for the job. The ceiling stretched away high enough to continue the natural supporting curve of the rock and to permit internal air-convection currents.

Weapons racks and lockers lined the walls.

Halleck noted with a touch of pride that those of his men still able to stand were standing – no relaxation in weariness and defeat for them. Smuggler medics were moving among them tending the wounded. Litter cases were assembled in one area down to the left, each wounded man with an Atreides companion.

The Atreides training–"We care for our own!"–it held like a core of native rock in them, Halleck noted.

One of his lieutenants stepped forward carrying Halleck’s nine-string baliset out of its case.

The man snapped a salute, said: "Sir, the medics here say there’s no hope for Mattai. They have no bone and organ banks here–only outpost medicine. Mattai can’t last, they say, and he has a request of you."

"What is it?"

The lieutenant thrust the baliset forward. "Mattai wants a song to ease his going, sir. He says you’ll know the one... he’s asked it of you often enough." The lieutenant swallowed.

"It’s the one called ’My Woman,’ sir. If you- -"

"I know." Halleck took the baliset, flicked the multipick out of its catch on the fingerboard.

He drew a soft chord from the instrument, found that someone had already tuned it. There was a burning in his eyes, but he drove that out of his thoughts as he strolled forward, strumming the tune, forcing himself to smile casually.

Several of his men and a smuggler medic were bent over one of the litters. One of the men began singing softly as Halleck approached, catching the counter- beat with the ease of long familiarity:

"My woman stands at her window, Curved lines ’gainst square glass. Uprais’d arms... bent... downfolded. ’Gainst sunset red and golded – Come to me... Come to me, warm  
arms of my lass. For me... For me, the warm arms of my lass."

The singer stopped, reached out a bandaged arm and closed the eyelids of the man on the litter.

Halleck drew a final soft chord from the baliset, thinking: Now we are seventy-three.


End file.
